


Relaxation Techniques

by timehopper



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: It's been a long day for both of them, but when Dimitri enters Sylvain's room late at night stressed and tired, Sylvain picks out the perfect thing to help him relax.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 144





	Relaxation Techniques

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurnion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurnion/gifts).



> Hello all! This fic is part of a trade with sparrow, who asked me to write Dimivain with toys! They drew me Dimivain face-sitting in return, which you can find and shower with love [here](https://twitter.com/agneasparrow/status/1280220618781102080?s=21)! (Link to an NSFW twitter post so be cautious when opening.)
> 
> In this house, we love Dimivain.

It’s a quiet night. Little moonlight slips in through the windows, most of it obscured not only by the dark drapes, but also by the thick, low-hanging clouds winter so often brings. The candle Sylvain had lit, freshly-replaced by whoever had been sent to tidy his room today, has melted about half-way to its holder. It’s getting late, and the room is just as silent now as when Sylvain had first entered.

That changes when, at last, the door opens. Sylvain is unsurprised by the noise - he had been expecting it, after all, albeit not at this hour - and when Dimitri closes it behind him with a ragged, exhausted sigh, Sylvain doesn’t even look up from his book. 

“Your meeting ran long,” he says as he turns to the next page and flicks the corner of the previous one under his nail. He keeps reading, but he purposely avoids absorbing the words his eyes flicker over; there’s a decent chance he won’t have a chase to finish the chapter, and continuing before he knows for sure seems pointless.

Dimitri unhooks the clasps of his cape - much more regal and far cleaner than the tattered, matted old thing he’d worn during the war - and lets it fall from his shoulders. Only then does Sylvain glance up from the book, watching Dimitri over the top of his reading glasses as he bends down to pick the garment up. It seems he isn’t going to strip any further than that, though, and so Sylvain returns to pretending to read. 

Dimitri lets out a haggard sigh, signalling (perhaps unintentionally) the end of Sylvain’s reading time. With a sigh of his own, he bookmarks his page, removes his glasses, and sets them and the book aside. He sits up straighter, shifting to make room for Dimitri, and pats the spot next to him on the bed. "Come here," he says, tone warm and inviting.

Dimitri shuffles over to the bed, toeing off his boots and shedding the outer layer of his clothing as he goes. He falls into Sylvain's arms, resting his head on a strong, broad shoulder as his eye flutters shut. As Sylvain runs a hand through his hair, Dimitri turns his head and presses a small, feather-light kiss to his neck - just one, at first, then another and another and another, moving up to his jaw and to his earlobe, which Dimitri then takes between his teeth and tugs. 

“Ah…” Sylvain can’t help but shiver in response, and though a part of him stirs in interest at the thought of getting Dimitri in bed and fucking the stress out of him, a stronger part of Sylvain is just… tired. Dimitri is not the only one who’s had a long day, and he had been quite looking forward to getting into bed and _staying_ there for the night. 

Yet still, when Dimitri cups his face in one hand and brings their lips together, Sylvain happily - even eagerly - kisses him back. He hums against Dimitri’s lips, opening his mouth to let him in. Dimitri licks into his mouth; Sylvain’s grip in his hair tightens. 

“Mmm…” Dimitri’s voice is deep, heady. It sends a wonderful shuddering thrill all the way through Sylvain, from head to fingers to toes – one that’s repeated when Dimitri slides forward, crawls into his lap, and brackets his hips with a knee on each side. One of the hands in Dimitri’s hair slides down his back to press between his shoulder blades and dig in, right where Sylvain knows Dimitri’s tension gathers strongest.

Dimitri moans into his mouth and presses closer, eager for more. Sylvain is of course all too happy to oblige: he kneads the knots in Dimitri’s back, smiling against his lips even as the body in his arms goes slack.

Sylvain twists around to drag slow, wet kisses up Dimitri’s neck, stopping only to bite when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“That’s it,” he croons. “Relax.” 

But Dimitri does not relax - not entirely. With every kiss, every scrape of teeth, he moans and grinds downward, his steadily-growing erection rubbing against Sylvain’s stomach. It’s almost cute how easy it is to rile him up like this – how the great, imposing king of all of Fódlan melts at the lightest touch, the smallest encouraging push. Sylvain can't help but laugh over the thought, a soft breath against Dimitri’s jaw that makes him shiver. “Wow. You must really be stressed if this is all it takes to turn you on.” 

“Sylvain.” The scolding tone in Dimitri’s voice would probably be much more effective were it not so strained. As it is, it just makes Sylvain smile. 

“Yes?” 

“Please, stop toying with me.” 

The quiet little plea, growled directly into his ear, is sweeter than any romantic ballad could ever sound. “I’d never toy with you,” Sylvain says. It’s a lie, and they both know it, but he does as he’s asked anyway, sliding his hands down to Dimitri’s waistband and slipping beneath it to tease the scarred skin below.

Dimitri groans, hips rolling forward into the touch. Sylvain quickly, deftly opens his pants up and slides them down to free his cock. He takes it in one hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around the shaft and stroking upwards. It’s thick and heavy in his grip, even only half-hard. At this rate, it won’t take much to get him off.

But then Dimitri moves, inadvertently pushing Sylvain’s hand off him as he scrambles to undo the ties of Sylvain’s sleep pants.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” Sylvain catches his wrist. “What’re you doing? I thought you wanted me to take care of you.” 

“I do,” Dimitri insists. “But Sylvain, please - I need…” 

_Ah._

Dimitri doesn’t have to finish the sentence. Sylvain knows all too well how hard it is for him to just come out and ask for what he wants, and so he decides to finish for him.

He leans back, bringing Dimitri’s hands with him, one in each of his own, and laces their fingers together with a smile. “I get it,” Sylvain says, an intentionally teasing lilt in his tone. “You want me to fuck you.”

His words draw a perfect little moan from Dimitri's lips, and Sylvain rewards it by taking hold of Dimitri's cock again. "You want me to fill you up and get you nice and stretched out, right? Want me to get in there nice and deep?"

"Y-yes..."

"Mm. You know how much I like that." Sylvain leans up to pepper Dimitri's neck with kisses again, from shoulder to jaw and back again. "And I'd really love to - you know I would - but..."

Dimitri pulls back. He’s quick, too quick, and for a moment Sylvain wonders if he’s upset. The look in his eye is one of concern, though, not offense.

“Of course,” he says, tone almost surprised. “You are tired. You have had a long day, too, after all…”

“Mm.” Sylvain nods slowly, but he does not let Dimitri go completely. He leans back again, traces the strong curve of Dimitri's neck with the backs of his knuckles, and stops only when he can cup his beloved’s face in his palm. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you what you want,” he says.

A look of confusion crosses over Dimitri’s face briefly, knitting his brow and wrinkling his nose before it's replaced with the tiniest hint of hope. “What do you mean?”

“Let me show you.”

Sylvain slips out from under Dimitri, leaving him alone and bare from the waist-down on the bed. He retrieves a key from his bedside table and walks over to the chest of drawers propped up against the eastern wall. He kneels before it, slipping the key into the hole on the second-to-last drawer, and turns it carefully. As the lock clicks open, Sylvain hears movement behind him on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dimitri asks. Sylvain does not look back at him; instead, he opens the drawer and rummages around in it, searching its contents for the object he's looking for. Though it evades his sight at first, eventually Sylvain finds it, and he smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the glass toy and plucks it from its hiding place.

Treasure found, he pulls it from the drawer and turns to Dimitri, the grin on his face nearly a mile wide. He holds up the dildo and rejoices in the little gasp it elicits.

"Is that...?" Dimitri swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He stands up on uncertain legs, shuffling over to Sylvain and looking over his shoulder into the drawer. "Are those...?"

"Yep." Sylvain wraps an arm around Dimitri's waist.

Dimitri's eye narrows. “...Sylvain,” he says, voice low and almost frighteningly serious. “Where did you get these?” 

Unperturbed, Sylvain winks. “I brought most of them from home, but a couple of them were bought here. You’ve got more variety in the Fhirdiad shops, you know?” 

“I was unaware.” 

“Really?” Sylvain asks, though he’s entirely unsurprised. Of course Dimitri doesn’t know; Sylvain isn’t sure he’s ever even _seen_ a toy like this up close before. “I’ll have to bring you along next time,” he says. “Then again, imagine the scandal if the public found out Margrave Gautier was dragging the King of Fódlan out to a back-alley sex shop…” 

He lets go of Dimitri, ignoring his indignant snort, and resumes shuffling through the drawer. Sylvain procures a towel and two more toys of a similar shape, though one is made of highly-polished wood, and the other, though still made of glass, is far less smooth. He doesn’t miss the way Dimitri’s eye scrutinizes its ridges. 

“Like what you see?” Sylvain asks. He turns away to return to the bed, and Dimitri follows after one last glance back at the drawer (which has been purposely left open). He joins Sylvain as he sets the toys on the bed, atop the towel he had brought with him, and looks down at them while Sylvain helps him out of his shirt

Dimitri’s brow knits as he examines each individual toy without touching them. It’s cute, somehow, that even after all these years Dimitri is still so shy. So _sheltered_. But, well, Sylvain has broken him of that mindset before. With his eyepatch, with dirty talk, with sex itself. What’s a couple of toys now? 

“Bend over, beautiful,” Sylvain says. Dimitri does not hesitate to obey. “That’s it. On your knees, head down… relax, gorgeous, I’ll take care of you.” 

He reaches for the bedside table, eyes on the full, wonderful swell of Dimitri’s ass, the tight ring of his hole. Sylvain grins and plucks a familiar bottle of oil out of the drawer, pops it open, and slicks up two fingers. 

“Sylvain…” Dimitri mumbles, shifting over his lap. His cock is still hard - perhaps even more so now than it had been before - and it hangs thick and full between his legs. _He really is beautiful like this,_ Sylvain thinks as he presses a finger to Dimitri’s rim.

Dimitri gasps at the intrusion, his whole body tensing. Sylvain rests his clean hand atop Dimitri’s head, running fingers through hair to try and soothe him. “You’re fine,” he says. “I’ve got you.” 

“Yes… of course.” Dimitri nods, letting his eye slip closed. He flattens his hands to the bedsheets, resting his cheek near them. The muscles in his back relax as Sylvain drags a hand over his spine, and soon he’s ready for more. 

“That’s it.” Sylvain keeps his voice low as he slides his finger the rest of the way in. He moves it around a little, giving Dimitri time to adjust, then pulls it out and starts to finger him in a steady rhythm: in, out, in, out. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” Dimitri says. 

“Good,” Sylvain echoes. He maintains the slow, steady thrust of his finger a few moments longer, waiting until Dimitri turns his head to look at him in a silent plea for more. Sylvain gives it to him without hesitation, the second finger sliding in just as easily as the first. 

“Ah…” Dimitri closes his eye again, but this time, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He’s relaxed, now, at last - completely at ease. Sylvain wonders if that means he’s forgotten about the toys. 

Not that he’ll let him forget for long.

Sylvain withdraws his fingers, slicks them up again, and this time adds a third as he pushes them back in. It probably isn’t necessary, seeing as none of the dildos he’s pulled out are much bigger than his own cock (which Dimitri is more than used to taking), but he finds he’s quite enjoying Dimitri’s little noises of satisfaction. He may as well let this go on a little longer. 

Or… not. No sooner does the thought cross Sylvain’s mind than he curls his fingers, almost cruelly. He grins as Dimitri jumps, cries out, and sinks back down to the sheets, melting under Sylvain’s hand. 

“You like that?” Sylvain asks. He doesn’t need an answer, really - which is fortunate, as one never comes - and the instinctive response Dimitri had given him had been more than convincing.

He curls his fingers again, and though Dimitri’s reaction isn’t quite as extreme as it had been a moment ago, it’s still just as satisfying: he moans, hips rolling back against Sylvain’s fingers. The motion makes Sylvain laugh - he really is desperate - and he leans down to place a kiss at the base of Dimitri’s neck. “Just you wait, gorgeous.” 

He withdraws his fingers. Dimitri whines and turns his head. “Sylvain, why did you…”

Sylvain wipes his hand off on the towel. Dimitri follows the motion, realization dawning on him as he catches sight of the toys waiting for him. 

“Go ahead and pick one,” Sylvain tells him. Dimitri hesitates, but with a small, gentle push from Sylvain, he shifts up onto his elbows to examine them again.

It takes him a moment to choose, but he eventually settles on the first one Sylvain had pulled out: long, smooth, made of glass. It’s one of Sylvain’s personal favourites, brought all the way from Gautier when he’d first been given his room in the royal palace. 

“…This one,” he says, picking it up between two fingers – apparently still not sure he should be touching it – and handing it to Sylvain.

Sylvain takes it. "Good choice," he says. He examines it, turning it every which way in his hand as if inspecting it for the first time. It's all for show, really, and it's so worth it when Dimitri averts his eye, cheeks turning visibly red even in the low light of the room.

Sylvain offers it back to him. "Go on," he encourages. "You'll want to get a feel for it."

Reluctantly, Dimitri accepts the offer. Sylvain watches his face for a reaction. He doesn’t know what he's hoping to find, but what he ends up seeing is more of the same: Dimitri is still very obviously flustered, and the flush on his face is even darker now, but... there's something else, too. A hint of curiosity, perhaps?

Dimitri tests the heft of the toy, lifting his palm and rolling the it in his hand. "It's... heavier than it looks," he says, almost wary as he hands it back.

Sylvain takes it with a grin. That's as good an admission of intrigue as any. "Yeah. It takes some getting used to, but you'll love it. Trust me."

He settles back against the bedframe. Dimitri watches him, awaiting further instruction, and Sylvain gives it with a gentle push to the nape of his neck to coax him down into the sheets. A hand slips under Dimitri's pelvis to lift it and maneuver him into the proper position, touch light but insistent.

"There we go," Sylvain murmurs.

Dimitri shifts, moving his weight to rest more on his elbows, and Sylvain leans over to press a kiss to the back of his spine. "You look so good like this," he croons. The soothing words do nothing to hide the sound of him popping the lid off the jar of oil. "Anyone ever tell you that, Your Majesty?"

"Only you."

A tiny, possessive glow of warmth lights in Sylvain's chest, spreading throughout him in time with his growing smile. "And so sweet, too. You always know just what to say to make a guy feel special."

He slicks up the toy, and Dimitri shifts again. There’s a certain nervous energy to the movement: his fingers tense and stretch in turn, flexing as if seeking something to hold. He closes them into fists a moment later, when Sylvain finally presses the tip of the glass dildo to his rim.

"You okay?" Sylvain asks.

Dimitri nods jerkily. "Yes," he says. "Just... nervous."

"Don't be." Sylvain angles the toy and slides it between Dimitri's cheeks, trying to give him just the smallest taste of what's to come. And it works - though the muscles in Dimitri's back are still taut, he sighs and leans into the movement. “Just relax. Talk to me.”  
  
Dimitri takes a deep breath. “I think I would rather listen to you, instead.” The smooth head of the toy catches on Dimitri’s rim, and he twitches away from it before leaning back again. He takes quick breaths, presumably in an attempt to calm himself, but it doesn’t seem to be helping.

“Okay,” Sylvain says, surprised but not averse to the idea. He presses the toy a little more insistently against Dimitri’s hole, rotating it slowly, but does not push it in. “What do you want me to talk about?” 

“Tell me about your day.” Dimitri lets out another breath, longer and deeper this time. Good. “About the book you were reading. Anything. I just wish to hear your voice.” 

How precious. Sylvain smiles. “You got it.” 

He positions the dildo properly at Dimitri’s entrance, the smooth, round tip of it resting against his rim. Dimitri takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"I don't think my day was half as tedious as yours," Sylvain starts. Already, he can see the effect his voice is having on Dimitri: he’s less tense now, the muscles in his back slowly relaxing. "I didn't have nearly as many meetings or signings as you did, but I did have to run a few errands in town."

"I see." Dimitri closes his eye. He takes a deep breath, and Sylvain pushes the toy into him.

Dimitri clenches.

"Hey, what did I say about relaxing?" Sylvain says. With his free hand, he strokes Dimitri's hair. He gets a small, hasty nod for his effort, and he presses the glass shaft in further. The head is all the way in, now, and Dimitri makes a small noise in the back of his throat.

Sylvain continues his story: "None of my errands were too important,” he says. “Checking in on some merchants to ensure continuing trade deals, mostly. Managed to get a few more while I was at it, too. I've always been fond of Fhirdiad's spiced mead." As he speaks, Sylvain pushes the toy in deeper, right until it's fully sheathed inside Dimitri but for the flared base. He stills his hand and looks over at Dimitri, trying to gauge how he feels, but it's difficult with the way the king's head is buried in the sheets.

He gives the dildo an experimental wiggle. Dimitri groans. "There. It's all the way in,” Sylvain says. “How do you feel?"

"It's..." Dimitri swallows thickly. He nods. "I need a moment."

"Sure, sure." Sylvain waits, one hand still on the dildo, the other palm-flat on the mattress. "Where was I?"

"Th-the mead."

"Ah, right! The mead. I have no idea what you put in it here in Fhirdiad, but it's nothing like the swill we have in Gautier. It's no real solution for the cold winters, but it might ease them a little." He taps on the base of the toy to feign consideration, and grins up at the ceiling, pleased with the tiny, choked whine the not-so-accidental tic earns. "You good yet?"

"Mm... hm. You… may continue." Dimitri sounds strained, but as Sylvain slides the toy out and back in again - slowly, slowly, dragging the motion out as long as he can - he steadily begins to relax.

Sylvain hums. "So that's all sorted now. I’ll be getting shipments every moon - for the duration of winter, at least. And even better than that, I met this _lovely_ girl..."

Sylvain can practically feel Dimitri tense against him - and if he couldn't, the low growl he utters makes it abundantly clear that he doesn't particularly like this aspect of the story. Before he can say as much, though, Sylvain cuts him off by shoving the dildo in nice and deep, angling it in just the way he knows Dimitri likes to be fucked.

He cries out. Sylvain smiles.

"Aw, no need to get possessive," he teases. "You know I've put all that behind me. Even if I _was_ interested - which I'm not - you're the only one for me, Dima."

More than any gentle motion or quiet reassurance Sylvain has made so far, the nickname seems to soothe Dimitri. Sylvain does not use it often - never in polite company, and only marginally more often when they are alone. He takes advantage of this, increasing the pace at which he thrusts the toy in and out. "We were talking trade, anyhow. Daughter of a merchant that has dealings with House Fraldarius. She was awfully interested in the fact that I haven't married yet..."

Without meaning to, Sylvain drives the toy in deeper. Dimitri's back arches and he gasps, eye flying wide. "S-Sylvain--"

"Sorry, was that too much?" Sylvain pulls back a little, but stops when Dimitri vehemently shakes his head.

"No! No, that was..."

 _Ah._ A smile curls over Sylvain's lips, smug and insidious. "Was... what, Dima? Did you like that?"

"I..."

Sylvain thrusts the dildo in sharply again. This time, the sound that leaves Dimitri is more of a hysterical laugh than anything else. His eye rolls back in its socket, and he melts back into the sheets as Sylvain withdraws the toy from him.

"Say it," Sylvain taunts. "Tell me how much you like it."

Dimitri nods, more pliant this time as the toy slides back in, deep and slow and deliberate. "It feels good."

"And?"

"And..." Another sharp thrust, another noise falling from Dimitri's twisting, wavering smile. "I... ah..."

Sylvain grins. "You want more, don't you?" He's surprised by how breathless he sounds - how his voice is little more than a low, thick rasp. He pulls the toy almost all the way out and holds it there. "Ask me."

"Ask you... Mmm..." Dimitri turns his head, still resting on the mattress, to look at Sylvain as best he can despite the poor angle. "M-more, please, Sylvain - please, do that again..."

"Heh." It's so easy to get him to babble. Sylvain had known the toy would do the trick, but he hadn't had any idea it would be quite _this_ effective.

And he's hardly even started yet.

Mercifully, Sylvain does as he's requested, rewarding Dimitri's obedience with another deep, sharp thrust. He changes the angle this time - barely a twitch of the wrist - and Dimitri practically _howls_ with pleasure.

"Good boy," Sylvain says. "Now, can I continue my story?"

Dimitri does not answer. He simply nods, mouth slack, the only noise rising from it a broken moan as Sylvain finds a new rhythm with the toy... and promptly stops moving it, as quickly as he had started.

Dimitri lifts his head, confusion lurking in his eye beneath the haze of his need. "S... Sylvain, why..."

"I asked you a question."

Though he would hesitate to call the look on Dimitri's face one of comprehension, it's clear that something gets through to him. Sylvain watches Dimitri's throat bob as he swallows, watches his tongue dart out to wet his dry lips. "Y-yes. Do as you please."

Sylvain isn't entirely convinced that Dimitri knows what question he had been asked, but his answer is satisfactory enough (and it doubles as a plea, besides). "Good boy," he says again; and with a smile, Sylvain at last resumes his previous rhythm, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, begins to speed it up. Good boys deserve to be rewarded for their behaviour, after all.

"Lucky for you, there's not much more to the story after that,” he continues. “Needless to say, that girl did _not_ get the deal she had been hoping for. I'll spare you the details, but I will say I was glad to be away from her."

His pace is relentless, struck up as if Sylvain were the one buried in Dimitri, as if it were his cock drawing breathless moans and full-body shivers out of him. It isn’t, but Sylvain delights in the action all the same, leaning down to kiss the nape of Dimitri’s neck, the curve of his shoulder, the strong line of his jaw and the sensitive shell of his ear. 

“Now, what else… Oh, you also wanted to know about the book I was reading, right?” Sylvain asks, lips brushing Dimitri’s ear. Dimitri pushes back against Sylvain’s hand, forcing the dildo deeper into him. He does not answer, and in retaliation, Sylvain pulls the toy out completely. 

The whine Dimitri makes is nearly inhuman: high and desperate, nearly a full octave than his usual register. A kitten’s mewl rather than a proud lion’s roar. There might be a word or two in there, but it’s hard to discern over the delicious strain in his voice. 

Sylvain grins. “Sorry, Your Majesty, didn’t catch that. What did you say?” 

Another strangled sound, only marginally more powerful this time. “Syl… Sylv... I - p-please…” 

“Oh, you want more?” Sylvain drags the dildo’s shaft between Dimitri’s cheeks, teasing but never pushing it back in. 

“Yes!” His plea comes out in a burst of air. Dimitri’s hands grab at the sheets, wrinkling them between his fingers. Sylvain is worried they’ll tear, but the moment he lays a hand over where Dimitri pulls at them, they’re let go and smoothed back down. He hasn’t lost control just yet. 

That’s fine. They have all night, after all. 

When Sylvain reaches Dimitri’s hole again with the tip of the toy, he circles it there, intent on taunting him just a moment longer. It works: Dimitri makes another of those desperate, obscene little whines, and pushes back only to have Sylvain pull away again.

“Ah-ah,” he says. “We’ve been over this. You have to answer my question first.” 

He draws back, away from Dimitri’s ear, far enough to smile down at him – and Sylvain may have looked the very picture of innocence were it not for the cruel slant at the corner of his mouth. Dimitri turns his head to see him, and he nods, gaze unfocused and lips parted prettily. 

“Yes... m-my apologies.” Dimitri closes his eye; Sylvain strokes him along his jaw. “I would… very much like to hear about your book.” 

“Thank you.” Sylvain rewards him immediately by pushing the toy back in. Dimitri arches his back, all tension in his face melting away to be replaced with a slack, satisfied smile. “But really, it’s nothing special. Just a novel. Although I guess it is a little bit different from the kind I usually read, heh.” 

He angles the toy right where he knows it will affect Dimitri the most, but this time, he adds to the sensation by taking hold of Dimitri’s cock. It’s wet at the tip, where a thick, drooling strand of precum dribbles out and makes a mess of Sylvain’s lap. 

“Ah! Wh-what do you mean…?” Dimitri asks, apparently trying to encourage Sylvain by continuing to speak to him. Sylvain smiles and rewards Dimitri with a long, slow stroke, keeping pace with the push and pull of the toy. He always had been a quick study.

“It’s a romance novel,” he says. “Pretty trashy, too. You know I usually only go for the good stuff.” 

Another stroke, another moan, another answer: “Yes, I am - ah! A-aware.” 

“But I got it on a recommendation from a friend, so I figured I might as well give it a try. But you know, Your Majesty, I think we had Ashe all wrong. He--”

“A-Ashe gave it to you?” 

Sylvain thrusts the dildo in forcefully, angling right for Dimitri’s prostate. He must find it, too, because as soon as it’s in all the way, Dimitri cries out, arms quivering as he tries to hold himself up. 

“That’s what I said.” Sylvain strokes Dimitri a little harder, squeezing as he works his cock from base to tip. 

“I… n-never knew he… ah!” 

Another sharp thrust, this time accompanied by a twist to the head of Dimitri’s cock. “You know, Dima…” Sylvain says. “There’s such a thing as being too mouthy.” 

And that gives Sylvain an idea. A cruel idea, perhaps, but one he's sure will be fun for both of them in the end.

He stops moving. "Hold on a second," he says. Dimitri freezes, looking over his shoulder at Sylvain as he pulls the toy out and sets it aside on the bed.

"Sylvain?!" His voice is panicked, desperate. A ploy to get Sylvain to fuck him again. It's adorable, really, that he thinks Sylvain will be so easily persuaded.

He slips out from under Dimitri and gets out of bed once more, leaving him wet, throbbing, empty, and neglected.

Dimitri does not appreciate it at _all_. He sits up on his knees, turning to face Sylvain as he walks away. He is rewarded with little but a grin and a wink in return.

"Sylvain - Sylvain, no, please--"

"Relax, Your Majesty; I won't be gone long. You can handle being empty for a little while, right?" Sylvain waves a hand dismissively as he turns his back. "Oh, and don't you dare touch yourself. I'd hate for you to finish before I'm done with you."

The noise Dimitri makes in response is _delicious:_ strained, incoherent, desperate. He sits back down and writhes against the sheets, searching for whatever friction he can get against his cock in absence of permission to use his hands. Sylvain considers scolding him for it, but decides against it. There are better ways of administering punishment, and really, he can hardly blame the man for how needy he is. Sylvain had very much done that on purpose, after all.

He kneels before the chest of drawers again, quickly picking out the object he's looking for: a small, thick bar with straps on either side of it. Once it's in his hand, he stands up, holding it up for Dimitri to see. "Do you know what this is, Your Majesty?"

Judging by the widening of his eye, Sylvain can assume he does, indeed, recognize this new toy. "Is - is that..." Dimitri starts, swallowing thickly. "Isn't that for... horses?"

Sylvain laughs, loud and genuine. "Sort of. You've got the right idea, anyway." He comes back over to the bed, sits on its edge, and takes Dimitri's face in one hand. He coaxes Dimitri to look him in the eye and smiles. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. I'll be nice and gentle for you. Trust me?"

Dimitri's gaze darts down to the bit gag, then back up to Sylvain's eyes. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, but slowly, almost hesitantly, nods. "I trust you."

The smile on Sylvain's face widens, and he leans up to kiss Dimitri's forehead. "That's it. Knew you would be good for me; you always are. Now open wide for me, okay, gorgeous?"

Dimitri obeys immediately, eye half lidded as he opens his mouth. A wave of arousal courses through Sylvain at that look, and for a moment he's disappointed he hadn't chosen a ring gag, instead - Dimitri looks so pretty with a cock down his throat, after all - but this isn't about Sylvain or what will feel good for him. This is about _Dimitri_.

He lifts the bit to Dimitri's mouth, waiting for him to take it. The reaction is nigh-instantaneous, even if the motion itself is slow: Dimitri's pupil expands, nearly blacking out the brilliant blue of his iris, and he leans forward, taking the bar between his teeth and biting down.

Sylvain thinks he could probably come then and there, if he wanted to.

He gathers himself, trying to restore the tattered remnants of his composure and only marginally succeeding. Sylvain secures the gag’s straps with shaking hands, making sure they’re tight enough to keep the bit in place, but loose enough not to hurt. When they’re secure, Dimitri hums, eye turning up to meet his gaze. 

“Goddess, but you’re beautiful,” Sylvain purrs. Dimitri tries to smile around the gag, and though he ultimately fails, the gesture is enough for the moment. 

Sylvain motions for him to get back in position, pressing a cupped hand to the back of his neck to get him to lie down. Dimitri goes obediently, once again bending himself over Sylvain’s lap and burying his face in the sheets. Sylvain gives him little warning before sliding the re-slicked dildo back into him, but it turns out not to be necessary, anyway; Dimitri shivers in delight and moans gratefully, though the sound is somewhat hindered by the gag.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sylvain asks, rubbing a hand over the swell of Dimitri's ass as he slowly thrusts the toy in and out.

Dimitri nods - perhaps because he can do little else - and Sylvain smiles. He traces his hand over Dimitri's hip and slides it inward, fingers tracing over the dips between muscles and skirting over the thick patch of hair leading to his cock. Sylvain can feel it twitch in anticipation before he even reaches it, and sure enough, when he takes hold of it again there's another thick drop of precum beading at the tip. He smears it around the head with his index finger, then presses down against the slit.

Dimitri _howls_. His cock practically jumps in Sylvain's hand, and Sylvain takes that as his cue to wrap his fingers around it and resume the steady pace he'd set before, knowing full well it's not enough to get Dimitri off just yet - not when he's distracted by the separate actions of both hands.

But that, too, gives Sylvain an idea. "Hey, Dima."

Dimitri turns his head - and oh, what a sight he is. Face red, fat tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, a small stream of drool dripping from where his lips fit around the gag. It takes Sylvain's breath away for a moment, and he has to close his eyes to try and remember just what it is he had wanted to say.

It comes quickly enough, though. "Move your hips," Sylvain commands. "Set the pace you want. I want to watch you make yourself come, okay?"

Mindless as Dimitri is in his pleasure, it takes him some time before he truly comprehends what Sylvain is asking. It's only the firm smack to his rear that alerts him to the fact that Sylvain is expecting a response, and he nods vigorously to give it in lieu of words.

"There you go." The hand that had been on Dimitri's cock, which now rests on his ass, moves sideways to grab Dimitri's hip. Sylvain coaxes him into moving, and once Dimitri finds a good rhythm at which to thrust back against the dildo, Sylvain lets go to focus on Dimitri’s cock once again.

Dimitri's hips snap forward and roll back in near-equal time, his pace increasing with every thrust. Sylvain does not let him do all the work, though: he's careful to make sure he's angling the toy just right so that it will hit Dimitri's prostate with every increasingly erratic thrust. It's a little bit tricky to match his pace, but Sylvain manages, just long enough for Dimitri to start losing the rhythm the two of them have so quickly and carefully built up.

"Come on," he says, leaning over to kiss Dimitri's temple. "Just a little more, gorgeous, you're almost there. Come for me, okay? Show me just how much you're enjoying yourself."

And come Dimitri does, crying out around the gag as he thrusts three, four, five more times into Sylvain's hand. Every inch of him, every muscle in his body ripples and spasms as the intensity of his climax overtakes him. His cock pulses in Sylvain's hand, thick ropes of cum spilling from it and soiling Sylvain's lap.

It's loud, it's messy, it's perfect - and Sylvain couldn't be any happier watching him, watching his Dimitri, as he comes completely undone.

When the last drops of cum drip from Dimitri's spent cock, he collapses. Sylvain catches him under his stomach and eases him down to lie flat across his lap. Dimitri's head lolls to the side, good eye hidden by the angle and the way the sheets wrinkle beneath his head.

With gentle hands, Sylvain unhooks the bit and tugs it out from between Dimitri’s teeth. He strokes his beloved’s hair slowly and whispers quiet, nonsensical little nothings to him as he waits for Dimitri to return from the heavens.

When at last he does, Dimitri rolls over, gaze lingering somewhere on the high, shadowed ceiling. Sylvain dips into his field of vision, close enough his hair dangles down and brushes Dimitri's skin. He smiles fondly down at him, none of his earlier edge to the expression.

Dimitri returns the look, lazy and tired.

“Well?” Sylvain asks, hand moving from Dimitri’s hair to cup his face. “What do you think?” 

It takes a moment - a long moment, in which Dimitri seems to search the ceiling for answers. “...You were right,” he says eventually, turning his face inward. His nose brushes against the soft fabric covering Sylvain’s stomach, and even through it, Sylvain can feel his grin. “I did… enjoy it.” 

“You loved it,” Sylvain corrects.

“Yes. Fine.” Dimitri huffs, breath warm. “I loved it.” 

Sylvain laughs. He tugs Dimitri’s hair lightly, and Dimitri follows the silent instruction to pull away and sit up. “I knew it. You know, you should really learn to trust me more.” 

He stands, taking the discarded toys from the bed and setting them on the towel on the nightstand before methodically removing and folding his clothing. It will have to be laundered sometime later, but such thoughts are far from a priority in Sylvain’s mind now. Dimitri watches him as he goes, and when Sylvain returns, he can’t help but notice the way Dimitri’s eye is trained on his half-hard cock. 

Dimitri licks his lips. “Sylvain, would you like me to…” he starts, but before he can finish, Sylvain holds up a hand. 

“Nah. I appreciate the thought, Your Majesty, but I really was just interested in getting you off.” 

Sylvain slides into bed, completely naked, and pulls Dimitri down to lie next to him. He can practically see the protest forming on Dimitri’s tongue, and so Sylvain kisses him to silence it before it can escape. 

“If you’re really so concerned about it, though, you can get me tomorrow,” he says. “But right now, I’m tired. Go clean yourself up so we can sleep, okay?” 

Dimitri nods, but his eye has long since fallen shut. He reaches for Sylvain, wraps strong but tired fingers around his wrist, and slips into a deep, satisfied sleep before he can even think to carry out his order. 

_Ah, well_ , Sylvain thinks as he drapes an arm over Dimitri’s waist and settles in against him. This is fine - they’ll just have to clean up together tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

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